


Oh Great. The Fade is Dripping

by SetsunaNoroi



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anders (Dragon Age) Positive, Anders Being Anders (Dragon Age), Bottom Anders, Broody Fenris (Dragon Age), Canon-Typical Violence, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dom Fenris (Dragon Age), Dwarf/Elf Relationship(s), Elf/Human Relationship(s), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fate & Destiny, Grey Warden Stamina, Healer Anders (Dragon Age), King Alistair (Dragon Age), M/M, Rivalmance (Dragon Age), Sexy Times, Slow Burn, Snarky Anders (Dragon Age), Some Humor, Varric Tethras Is So Done, Varric Tethras Writes, Warden Carver Hawke, Warrior Hawke (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29254506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SetsunaNoroi/pseuds/SetsunaNoroi
Summary: Fenris is wary of Anders. Anders is wary of wanting again. He can hear the song if he listens hard enough, but the melody is bittersweet, which is frankly normal for their lives. The Grey Warden eventually leaves Kirkwall when deadly secrets are discovered and the elf is the one dragging him out of there so they can both seek relics of their pasts. What they find spells a lot of trouble for everyone and Anders just wants to bury his head in the sand until it's all over. Why can't Amell fix this crap, or that elf girl that somehow got made into the figurehead of a religious origination by virtue of surviving explosions?"Why do epics always make us sound amazing? We're embarrassingly bad at saving the world. Makes me wonder if Andraste was as dumb as us, like maybe she couldn't find her socks in the morning during war time."Worst part is Varric will not stop writing about his sex life, and he keeps getting the details wrong. Unless you ask Fenris. He thinks the worse part is all the mages who won't leave him be. Justice thinks the worst part is how Anders keeps getting off track via kidnappings and following cats around.Starts in DA2, continues in DAI. Warning of typical violence, sex and bad humor
Relationships: Alistair/Amell (Dragon Age), Anders/Fenris (Dragon Age), Carver Hawke/Merrill, Female Hawke/Isabela, Female Lavellan/Varric Tethras
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	1. Not Impressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a long while ago, wow it's been years now, I started writing a fanfiction called When Will the Dawn Come. It was supposed to be high drama, with the idea most of the characters including the Hero of Ferelden and Hawke were hardened, and set after the third game. Sadly I didn't get very far into it, mostly because it was pretty depressing and it was largely focused on a lot of bad crap in their lives with no attention paid to the better things they had. The idea was to slowly bring them out of it and make their lives better as they worked with the Inquisition, including rescuing Hawke from the Fade after she'd been trapped there for a year with the fear demon, but it just felt more like wangsting. I even fully wrote a fourth chapter that I never bothered to post because it was just getting too sad.
> 
> However, recently the announcement about another game surfaced, set for a release date of 2022. I got to admit, it got me pretty excited and I thought I'd give the world of Thedas another shot but more on how I actually enjoy writing, with sexy but realistic romance and dry wit humor as opposed to driving Hawke insane from being in the Fade all alone. Seriously, what was I thinking? I can only blame it on the fact that in my head it sounded like decent drama but on paper it came out more like a soap opera.
> 
> In any case, this is a completely different story with (some) alternate pairings, snark, innuendos and an Anders and Fenris that probably could have gotten on alright if they'd had a chance to actually talk a few times. They both were a lot more willing to compromise on the matter of magic and mages at the start of the game than the end, when they'd become very hard-headed on the topic with each other. I think it was mostly just hatred of each other that grew over time as they both added fuel to the fire, but I think with some honest conversations they could have been a decent rival romance.

' _All I want is a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightning at fools.'_ _Anders_ _, Dragon Age 9:3_ _1_ _, Dragon Age Origins:_ _Awakening_

Glass bottles clinked together as they were collected and put in a bag, Anders careful to keep them properly stored snugly against each other in his pouch so as not to risk breaking any. Using a few spare rags to stuff between them and keep them from jostling, he reached back for the shelf and grabbed a few more bottles in an attempt to fit as much into the bag as he could while holding the leather flap up with his teeth in order to keep his hands free.

"Damn buckle," he said as he finally let the top drop and stuck his tongue out a bit, the taste of metal irritating him. "Should have brought a bigger bag."

He didn't even hear the footsteps behind him before a hand was on his arm and whirling him around violently as he was slammed back against the shelves. Grunting hard, he raised his hands to fire off a spell before he saw just who was, the dark-skinned elf that he'd met a few weeks ago. What was his name again? Fenrir? No, that wasn't right, was it?

He didn't know the elf that well, only having met him the one time while preparing to set off on the expedition to the Deep Roads. Hawke had explained she had some worked lined up but it was probably illegal and she'd prefer him to help her out since he didn't strike her as the type worried about getting skirting the law. Only smuggled lyrium hadn't been the item of the day after all.

Actually… thinking on the elf's markings, he supposed the lyrium was smuggled… sort of. When they'd found out the ruse actually was about handling a magister, Anders had been pretty willing to help. You don't hear about another man getting enslaved and literally getting collared without feeling the urge to kick some teeth in. Even before when the mage had been more self-centered and focused on his own survival, he probably would have been happy to come along just to watch a prick like that get what was coming to him.

Only for the mansion to be empty and the elf getting huffy about another mage in his life, you know despite helping out killing all the shades in the place. While he had admitted after his bitter words that he knew he sounded ungrateful, the mage had a feeling he wasn't going to like the elf much. He could only guess that Hawke had realized the same thing because the rest of the jobs she'd arranged to work to earn the coin for their trip had either been Anders or the elf. He'd almost suspected he'd come along to the Deep Roads as another fighter to ward off the darkspawn but he'd stayed in his liberated mansion instead.

"Oh, it's just you," he said with a deep frown as he pulled away from Anders. Okay, so he didn't seem to be under attack anymore. That was a good thing, mostly because he was still trying to wrack his brain for this elf's name. Varric had called him Broody a couple times but that was no help. "I thought you were a slaver."

The mage could only arch an eyebrow at that.

"Do I really look that suspicious?" he asked as he rubbed his chin. "It's the beard, isn't it? Nothing screams slaver quite like a scraggly beard."

"This place was used by them recently," the elf explained shortly. By the Maker what was his blighted name? "I saw the lights on and assumed they might have come back."

"Oh, that. Guess that would have looked suspicious," he admitted before he opened his pack to let the other man see. The elf looked a bit curious before he glanced inside.

"Potions?"

"Yes. Hawke's family is still squaring some details away before the place is officially theirs and she can move her and her mother in," he explained. "When she was down here she saw the potion supply the men here used so she told me I could take them for the clinic's use if I wanted, as thanks for the Deep Roads."

"Ah… yes, you were there," the elf replied after a moment. "Varric mentioned if you hadn't been there Carver would have died."

The healer paused for a moment, sighing softly. It was true. It had been pure luck that they'd been able to find the Wardens at all. Even still, he couldn't help but feel like he should have been able to do something more. It was a stupid thought but there it was. He missed being a selfish bastard. Less guilt on his mind.

"It hasn't been easy on the family, I'm sure," he said. "Hawke wanted to split the profits with me for doing what I did to save her brother but I don't really have any use for the money. Just would have bought supplies with it. This cut out the middle man and it was just used by the bastards who'd been using the estate anyway. Why not take them? I doubt she will have a need for them. I'm sure she's going to feel rather adventured out for a while."

"Hm, indeed," the elf replied before crossing his arms over his chest. The mage looked at him pointedly, wondering if he was planning on leaving any time soon or if he was just going to stand there and keep scowling at him. He had a look on his face that could shatter an entire mountain.

"You know, it feels kind of strange to be here in the Amell estate," he admitted, figuring he could at least make small talk if he was going to have company. "I wonder if Solona ever even remembers this house, if she ever even lived here."

"Who?" the elf asked. "Someone you know?"

"Oh, Solona Amell. Might have heard of her, the Hero of Fereldan. Stopped the Blight, crowned the king and-"

"I had not, actually," he admitted, causing him to both deflate and feel more than a little surprised.

"You're kidding? The Blight was kind of a big deal. How could you not know just who had stopped it?"

"The Blight was actually good for me," the other man admitted. "While it was going on, it left me to move freely. Too many people were watching the country and wondering if it would spread and how quickly. I had no slavers coming after me in that year. Danarius was probably too busy to worry about me. Not that I wish it had gone on longer, but I was more concerned with myself than to follow news about it other than the fact that it had ended."

"I see. I guess that makes some sort of sense," he admitted. "We were hip deep in it for a while so I sort of figured everyone would know. Anyway, she was the one who recruited me and acted as my commanding officer. We actually grew up in the same Circle too."

"So she was a mage too?"

"Oh what? You have a problem with that too? I thought magic was supposed to serve man? Not service enough to save a whole kingdom?" he snapped when he heard the tone of disapproval in the elf's voice.

"I said nothing like that. I only inquired if she had magic too. She must, if she had grown up in a Circle."

"It was your tone of voice. You didn't have to say it."

"You often get offended by things not even said to you, mage?"

Oh, he wanted to wring this guy's neck. Seriously, what was his damage? Right, the slave thing. Funny, he'd actually felt sympathy for this guy for a short while. How bad did a personality have to be that such a thing was already drying up? He certainly didn't do himself any favors going around and calling people who'd helped him vipers. Whatever, Solona had done great things for mages back home by slaying the Archdemon. Who cared what one jerk thought?

When nothing else was said, Anders just elected to ignore him and turn back to his work. He supposed he could get a few poultices too, even if they weren't as effective. Not every injury needed something as potent as a potion after all. Maybe he should make multiple trips since there was only so much room in his bag.

"I have heard you are an abomination though."

Anders froze just as he was reaching for another bottle, his fingers twitching a bit in anger. A flicker itched in his stomach, hot and sharp in his gut. It took a couple deep breathes to keep his cool. The elf had already stated quite clearly he would keep an eye on Hawke's companions, but he didn't know this man at all. He could run to the templars any second that he wanted to.

"I see. Just who informed you of that?" he grit out through his teeth, refusing to turn to face him.

"Hawke broke the news to me. She seemed to believe I should be warned, that I would have… as she said, a poor reaction if I would have learned it in combat."

That explained why the two of them hadn't been going on any jobs together.

"I don't think abomination is quite the right word. Usually when that happens it's more the mage growing fangs and claws, floating off the floor and setting things on fire while howling at the moon," he retorted.

"And that is not an accurate description of you?"

Anders turned around and smiled widely, but it felt more a grimace than anything. The urge to hit the irate elf was rising by the minute.

"See any sharp teeth?" he asked sarcastically.

"I see something dangerous nonetheless."

"Something… some… thing?" he bit out. "Oh, so I'm not even a person to you then?"

"Would it honestly feel better to you if I called you a dangerous person?"

"Oh, I don't know. Let's see how you feel if I start calling you a thing and we'll circle around back to me," he hissed. "You didn't seem to mind my magic all that much while you were running around that mansion yelling out for that magister to come out and fight you. What were your words? You can't do it alone?"

"I… I can accept that you did help, and that there are good people who have access to magic, but I have seen much more who have made deals with demons to get access to more power. You made a deal in order to get more power, and plan to use that power to elevate the position of other mages. That is inherently dangerous and deserves my attention."

Anders opened his mouth to retort before it snapped shut. Technically everything the elf had said was correct, but the tone could have certainly used some work. It was late though and the mage was tired, wishing more than anything to just finish his work so he could get to bed. He had several people he'd promised to see tomorrow, work piling up since he'd been gone from the clinic for so long due to getting lost in the Deep Roads. Still, he couldn't keep himself from making one last comment.

"Justice is a terrifying force at times, but he is a force for good, and he is my friend," he stated. "If that frightens you, then I suggest you just stay away from me."

"I am not frightened of you!" the elf snarled. "I am not afraid of any magic user!"

Yeah, he didn't think he believed that. Still, he kept his mouth shut. He had a feeling if he kept pushing this he was going to get slugged in the face.

Instead, he just tightened the strap of his bag over his shoulder and made sure it was closed securely. The thing was near to bursting. It wouldn't do to try to stuff anymore in.

"You know… it occurred to me that you paid Hawke, but I didn't get anything out of helping you," he noted. "Hardly seems fair, now does it?"

"I paid for the work. How it was split between you and her."

"No, I mean… Ugh, forget it. I could spell out the fact I helped you completely out of the goodness of my heart and you'd just scoff and blow me off. Why bother?" he asked before shaking his head. "Whatever, I'm going."

He only got a couple steps before he was called after.

"Wait."

"Oh, what now?" he asked as he turned back around to face the elf but paused as he saw the other man actually fidgeted a bit and was looking down, seeming almost bashful.

Anders had to admit… it was a different expression than the scowling and frowning. It… it was kind of nice too.

He immediately felt the urge to slam down that thought, firmly trying to get rid of it before it wiggled too deeply into his brain. With Justice with him now, there was no chance of anything more than the cause. He couldn't think on anything else, and besides, it wasn't likely anyone would want a mage with a spirit inside of him, especially the elf.

"There are still other potions here. Will you not be taking all of them?" he was asked.

"I fit all that I could in here. I'll just have to collect the others some other time, or just make more trips later on," he replied before he saw the elf pick up a crate and stuff some spare straw into it before getting the rest of the bottles. "What are you doing?"

"It might be much, but I do not like the idea of being in your debt. You seem the type to hang it over my head," he answered before hefting up the heavy crate easily. The strength surprised Anders, considering the wiry frame but maybe it shouldn't have. He'd seen the elf fight before, how easily he swung around such a large blade. He was clearly stronger than he looked.

Maker, that was kind of a turn on.

"Well," he said with a cough as he quickly looked away from the sight. "I guess I'll just say thank you and allow you to help then."

Yeah, that seemed a safe response. He led the way out of the cellar, locking up behind them and made a mental note to return the key to Hawke the next time he saw her. Luckily the exit led right into Darktown, next to his clinic in fact. It would be good to remember if he ever had to hide from any Templars that came his way. The local population was kind enough to keep him warned if they ever saw anyone in uniform and hid him away, but you never could have too many places to hide just in case. He didn't want to take advantage of the woman's kindness but there wasn't any point in having a friend of nobility if he couldn't ask for a favor now and then.

"I don't suppose you'd like to come in?" he asked as he pushed the door to his clinic open. He half expected to have the crate to be shoved into his chest and the other to stomp off. Still, it wouldn't be polite to just leave him on the doorstep. He was kind of used to people not liking him due to his magic. If he refused to interact with anyone who might have something against him he wouldn't ever be able to speak to anyone. "I could get us some soup and bread. One of my patients dropped it off for lunch and there's still some leftovers."

"I have food at the mansion already," the elf declined.

"Oh well. More for me then," he said as he took the crate, though he ended up struggling a bit with it, the weight taking him off guard.

"Watch it!" the elf snapped, grabbing him to steady him and keep him from dropping the precious potions to keep them from shattering. "Are you trying to waste my work for you?"

"Are you trying to sweep me off my feet?"

The words were blurted out before he could stop them. He couldn't help it. He'd been hitting on everything that looked even halfway decent since he'd been a teenager and first discovering just how much fun it was to get sweaty with other people. Justice had been inside of him for a few months and he had yet been able to slay the two monsters that were Anders' libido and his big, dumb mouth.

The elf stared at him, his cheeks getting a bit dusky in a blush. Without warning, he suddenly let go of Anders and the crate, causing the mage to hop on one foot as he tried desperately to catch his balance to keep from crashing to the floor. By the time he had managed to get it put down safely without breaking his leg, the elf was long gone. He couldn't tell if he'd pissed him off or intrigued him.

"It doesn't matter," he groaned as he rubbed the back of his head and sighed. Just half a year ago he'd have followed after him like a bitch in heat. If there was anything fun about sex it was the tension beforehand, especially if it could get really heated. Sometimes it didn't matter if the sex actually happened or not, the teasing beforehand sometimes just as fun.

Now though... now he had ideas of a revolution and saving the world for the mages, and clinic to run and people to help. His life had become much too respectful.

"This is your fault, I hope you know that," he said, smacking his own forehead. Justice wasn't separate from him, the two of them practically one person now, and he knew Justice could not answer him back, but sometimes he missed talking to his friend. He figured as long as he didn't start growling back responses and having arguments with himself it didn't hurt to talk to the spirit a bit. "Ahh, damn. I used to be so unrespectable. Oh well."

Still, he really should find out his name. It wouldn't have done to ask, but it would be more and more awkward the longer he waited. Maybe he could ask Varric. He kept so many notes about their lives he was sure he knew as much about the former slave as there was to know, down to the color of his smallclothes.

He looked down to the crate before he shook his head and just locked the door behind him and decided to put everything away later. Pulling the bag off his shoulder, he set it aside and trudged to the backroom where his bed waited for him. Falling to it, his face hit the pillow and he groaned.

Darkspawn in his dreams or not, sleep was a really good idea right now.

The Deep Roads were behind him, but he still couldn't help but feel responsible, like something was creeping up in his mind. He hadn't known Carver well, seemed like he was a bit of a prat, but he had clearly been fiercely protective of his sister. Anders had to respect that at the very least, and he was a determined young man. He was sure the Joining would go well for him. Still… maybe he should make the effort to get in contact with Stroud and ask after him. He didn't want to stick his nose that deep into the Warden's business. Maker's breath, he was sure Amell would still be livid at him for running off. She should have expected it though. When had he ever been known to follow rules or stay in one place for too long? It was almost a shame. He could have been happy there with them, could have actually belonged with people who wouldn't hate him just because of his magic.

Still, he couldn't have and he knew that. Karl had needed him… and he'd still failed him, not getting to him in time.

Rolling over onto his back with a sigh, he stared up at the ceiling. He'd failed Karl, but who hadn't he failed over the years? Deep down he knew he wasn't really good for anyone, not even Justice. Now there was nothing to do but wonder just how was he going to clean up this mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the first chapter. You'll have to forgive the length. I know it's a bit on the short side. Don't worry. It'll be getting longer. I just didn't see them having a long conversation when they're still at the needling each other point. While their arguments got pretty bad in Act 2 and 3 it seemed like they were mostly just figuring each other out in Act 1. Probably just wary around each other.
> 
> I also plan on writing Anders more as his snarky and peppy self. Since Dragon Age 2 starts roughly a year after the start of the first one, he couldn't have been a Grey Warden long before he left for Kirkwall. I imagine it would have taken a while to get from his previous attitude he had in Awakening to the more serious and worn man he was in 2 so I wanted to show the transition between the two sides of him.
> 
> Anyway, I thank you very much for reading and if you would be so kind please review.


	2. A Rough Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I want to say thank you so much for the reviews I've gotten so far. You guys are the sweetest, I hope you know that. Things like that make it really fun to work on stories like this. Honestly, I was a bit worried since I hadn't written Anders in so long, but he seems to have come off well. I'm glad of that.

' _Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature.' Flemeth_ _, Dragon Age 9:3_ _0_ _, Dragon Age Origins_

The smell of crushed herbs and burning incense hit Fenris's nose as he walked up to the door of the clinic. The lanterns above were both extinguished, it being long since after dark. No one was around, save for a lone old woman passed out nearby with a thin blanket wrapped around her body and a bottle dangling in her weak grip. He was fairly sure the mage was inside though, doubting heavily he would have anywhere else to be this time of night. In fact, it was exactly because the healer wasn't where he should be that Fenris had traveled down to this area of Kirkwall in the first place.

It had been a few weeks since he'd been here last, helping him get supplies to his clinic and that downright awkward encounter with him. The former slave had been on the run for so long he'd never had what could be called meaningful encounters with anyone before. It had all been a cycle of using others or being used himself, stolen coin often what got him allies or anything beneficial in his life.

Which made the incident with Anders all the more awkward. He was not used to kindness or that sort of attention. It really felt utterly ridiculous to even think that the elf was worth said attention. He knew how strange he looked, how intimidating his marks could be, especially by those that had seen his abilities firsthand. Of course, that wasn't to say he hadn't gotten a lewd comment or two before. He was still an elf after all, a species that humans both seemed to hate and find utterly fascinating. Yet the mage hadn't looked at him like he was just a fetish to fulfill, and his words had been awkward… almost sweet, like a foolish teenager who didn't know his way around words yet.

Then again, Fenris had found himself fleeing the situation before he could even manage a reply so maybe he'd been more like the inexperienced teen himself. The words had ultimately been harmless, a flirty little comment that the elf had decided to ignore and just let pass by. He had more important things to worry about after all, like when Danarius decided to send more hunters after him.

He wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for being sent. Honestly, he would rather be in his mansion but Hawke had requested him to go find the healer and bring him to the Hanged Man, to drag him if he had to. Apparently, there was a need to celebrate and he'd been selected as the one to grab the mage.

Shifting from foot to foot before he finally knew he couldn't really justify waiting any longer, he rapped hard on the wooden doors to try to get the mage's attention. He was sure they were firmly locked from the inside and Anders would not react well to someone trying to force their way inside. He seemed rather paranoid about Templars, with good reason.

He didn't receive an answer so he knocked again, harder and more insistently this time. It got a soft grunt from the drunk vagrant but nothing from the inside.

"Mage!" he called to the open window he saw light coming from. "Let me in."

The door opened quickly after that, an angry expression greeting him under a mess of undone blonde hair.

"Shout it a little louder, why don't you? I don't think the dead heard you," he hissed. It seemed Fenris had caught him in the middle of something, his hair untied and without his large coat, dressed only in a tunic and pants. The man wasn't even wearing boots, only in a pair of woolen socks. "Fenris?"

"Yes. Who did you think it was?"

"Oh no. I knew it was you when I heard your voice. I just wasn't sure if I remembered… Ah… Never mind, it doesn't matter," he said a little awkwardly. "Listen, you think you could do me a favor and not announce that it's a mage who lives here out where everyone can hear? I don't need the Chantry coming to try to capture me."

"The Chantry is too far from here to hear me even I shouted at the top of my lungs," he replied evenly, crossing his arms over his chest. He was mildly curious if he had woken the other man up, but he seemed too alert to have been sleeping. "You didn't answer when I knocked."

"Yes well, I don't usually after certain hours," he replied, rubbing at his face. "Maker's breath, before you called for me I thought you were… It doesn't matter."

"You believed me to be a Templar, to drag you back to the gallows so that you would be-"

"Don't even finish that sentence," he groaned. He didn't seem to be in a very good mood. Perhaps taking him to the Hanged Man would be a good idea after all. It seemed like he was pretty stressed as it was. Alcohol might help him unwind. "What are you even doing here anyway?"

"There is a celebration," he explained shortly. "Hawke informed you about it this morning, or at least she told me that she had. Apparently, she wants you there."

"Oh, of course. She received a letter from Carver. Seems her little brother was strong enough to have survived joining the Grey Wardens," he mused.

"Is it not common for one to live through becoming a member of your organization?" Fenris asked curiously. He didn't know much about them himself. The group wasn't thought of highly in Tevinter, what with the legend it was men from the Imperium that had created the darkspawn and doomed the world to the Blight. Information about them was scarce and who even knew what was true about them in the first place and not just slander.

"Eh, it's… It's not something we talk about to people outside of the order," Anders admitted with a shake of his head. "Even not being part of the group anymore, it would be best if I didn't reveal too much about that. If there's anything that would cause me to get drug back it would be if word got around that I'd started to blab secrets about them. In any case, I can't come tonight. I'm busy."

He turned back around to go back into his clinic but Fenris caught the door as he was going to shut it and followed in after him.

"Oh, well do come in," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"If you aren't going to come back with me then I think I will hide away as well. Hawke seems like a… boisterous drunk," he explained. By the time he'd left she'd been taking clear advantage of the fact a mug of ale was only three bits apiece, drinking to her family happily… and loudly.

Anders laughed a bit at that.

"Probably got that from her time in the army," he said as he rubbed in the back of his neck. "Ferelden beer made up for quality with quantity, and anyone about to face darkspawn would want a stiff drink to calm the nerves."

"It seems almost like it's in bad taste to have such a reaction to Carver's fate," he admitted. "Not that I blame her for being happy that her brother is alive but as I understand it the life of a Warden is far from an easy one. It feels more like she should be missing him, even if he was an ass to deal with."

"Well, it might be part celebration, part grief," Anders admitted. "Everyone handles these sort of things differently. It is possible she is just trying to move on and make the best of things. She doesn't seem the type that enjoys wallowing."

"You speak as if you would know," Fenris noted.

"Everyone has had to hide pain before, you know. Even me. It's a lot easier to joke and let things roll off my back. Well, it used to be anyway," he stated. "What about you? What do you do when something bad happens to you?"

"My bad experiences are normally tied to my slavery and escaping it," he retorted coldly. "If anyone comes to bother me about it then I kill them."

"Well, points for efficiency, I suppose," the mage replied with a bit of a grin. "I suppose an ale or two wouldn't do much for that anyway."

He shut the door before going over to a counter where he had a few things laid out, a mortar and pestle along with several jars of what looked to be animal fat, along with dried skin laid out that had a pile of potash on it. A small fire was burning in a pit with a cast iron pot hanging over it, boiling some oil inside.

"The soap supply is running low," he explained when Fenris looked over all the ingredients. "It's cheaper and easier just to make my own than buy any. The quality stuff is all in Hightown and costs more than what it's worth."

"You go through a lot of soap then?" he asked with a bit of a snort. "You don't seem the type to worry about your appearance."

Anders actually snickered at that, confusing the elf.

"I actually used to be quite vain," he admitted as he rubbed at one of his ears, fingering a small hole that would have been the perfect size for an earring. "I suppose I just have much more serious matters to worry about now. Believe me, I used to strut around quite pleased with myself."

The mage's eyes shifted to him, his gaze a little sultry under half-lids. The brown of his eyes almost seemed warm, like melted chocolate. However, just as it had started Anders was looking back at his work like nothing had happened. Fenris felt a bit of warmth under his collar but he ignored it, not going to bring attention to the moment if the mage wasn't.

"It's actually for my patients. Darktown isn't exactly known for its clean and healthy conditions. A lot of people who come here are filthy and I need them to wash up if I have to perform surgery or anything like that. They'd just end up getting sick like that," he explained.

"I thought you used magic to heal them."

"Not all of them. No amount of magic is going to get an arrow out of you or deliver a baby," he said. "Actually, it's a rookie mistake for someone using creation magic to heal an injury that isn't cleaned out first. You have a good chance of trapping something in there, like metal or dirt. Very bad for the patient. Besides, even as a Grey Warden, my stamina isn't endless. I can get tired and run low on mana just as any other mage. If I ended up using magic on every single person here whether they needed it or not I'd end up passed out after a few hours. Not exactly a good idea since I run this place by myself. Wouldn't be much use to anyone if I ended up slumped over on the floor."

"I thought being an abomination gave someone near-endless magical powers," Fenris asked pointedly.

Anders glared at him, but the elf didn't back down or apologize for the comment. He'd once told Hawke that he was going to watch the mages in her company carefully and that was exactly what he intended to do. So far he wasn't impressed, the woman keeping contact with a blood mage who hid behind a mask of innocence and a man who'd willingly allowed something to posses him. Even the mage himself had said that this spirit of justice had been warped to become vengeance. He was perfectly in his right to want to know what was going on and if the man was dangerous in any way.

"Okay, seems you want to know about this. Fine," he said testily. "What do you want me to say? I'm not exactly running around tearing the heads off of people or eating little children. I'm certainly not going to bring tidal waves to crash upon the shores of Kirkwall to torment people or anything."

"Could you?"

Anders snorted and shook his head.

"Maybe if I got really, really pissed off?" he mused before noticing the hard look from the elf and waved his hands. "Joke, joke. No, nothing like that. Yes, technically I am an abomination, but to be fair I can't say I'm really a big fan of the word. Justice has made me more powerful but there are still limits to what I can do. I can still get tired just like any man. With mages that gave themselves over completely to demons and change, they become wild and crazed like an animal that needs to be put down. In that case the demon has stolen the body for their own and wears it without any influence of the person the mage once was. What Justice and I have is… well, it's not perfect, but it's more a partnership than anything else. It was more like we merged than anything."

"From what I heard you seemed to have lost control very easily when that mage was made Tranquil."

"His name was Karl."

"Does it matter?" Fenris asked before he found himself shoved against the wall. For a second blue flicked over Anders's eyes, like sparks of lighting dancing in his pupils. Teeth bared at him like a wild dog and he found himself wondering just how much control this mage really had of himself.

"Don't speak so lightly of him," the mage hissed. There was only his voice though, seemingly only him speaking to the elf, but a hint of anger was present nonetheless.

He was about to shove him away before the mage let go on his own. He turned away from the elf, fiddling with his hands a bit before he sighed.

"Karl was my lover," he admitted softly. "Years ago he and I… Well, in the Circle there was never much freedom. We had so little, almost nothing. To distract ourselves… he was my first, so yes it matters what his name was."

"I… I see," Fenris replied. Something told him he should apologize, just to be polite, but it felt like admitting a defeat somehow. He had never had such an experience himself, at least not that he could remember. He tried to imagine someone special to him that he could take comfort from when not hounded by Danarius or Hadriana, who would comfort him in dark and private places, only to lose them. It wasn't a pleasant thought to have such relief only to lose it.

If the mage hadn't tried to escape he wouldn't have been made Tranquil in the first place though, and as he'd heard the tale it was Anders who had actually dealt the killing blow.

"I could see how such an experience would be distressing," he admitted, a safe middle ground. He felt it would have been better just to leave the mage in the Circle. If he hadn't tried to get away then nothing bad would have happened to him, and the world didn't need yet another mage who couldn't respect rules running around, but he felt he could at least be tactful.

"A bit more than distressing," he muttered. "Karl didn't want to rule over anything or anyone. He just wanted to be free. For him to be made Tranquil like that, to use him as bait just to try to-"

"Have you been with many men then?" Fenris asked suddenly, just to get the mage to shut up. He didn't really feel like hearing the plight of the people who needed to be watched to keep everyone else safe. So easy for them to whine after they'd ruled over everyone else for centuries and then gotten beaten down and driven back in the wars against the Imperium.

"I… What?" he asked.

"Men? You've laid with them a lot then?" he reiterated. It was hardly the best conversation topic but he hadn't been able to think about anything else that would cut off the oncoming rant.

"Oh, well a fair amount I suppose," he admitted. "I always felt you fall in love with someone for their whole being, not just their body. Why shy away from caring about someone just because they're like you? Then again, that goes the opposite way as well. I've found time for women too. They're rather marvelous creatures and there's something to be said for the spice of variety. What about you? Any preference?"

"I… I wouldn't know," Fenris confessed. He'd rather not talk about himself but he had been the one to bring up the topic of conversation. There had been his master, but Fenris had always firmly told himself that such things didn't count. It was the only thing that helped him feel like he wasn't worthless and used up. He'd rather feel like he was someone with no experience at all than a toy. "I think I can see what you mean, about loving someone for who they are instead of what they are, as long as they proved themselves to be worth the affection. You've been in love often then?"

"Not as often as I would have liked. Most of it was physical, just a way to ignore the world for a while, some fun and nothing else," he said. "Not that I've had the chance to indulge in that lately. Justice doesn't exactly approve of frivolities."

"Aren't you and he one now though?"

"Mostly, I think? It's not exactly as if there is a lot of information about this kind of thing. His thoughts are mine and vice-versa, but there are things I feel now that I know are due to his influence. Like… well, the drinking thing? Truthfully, I'd love to be down there with Hawke getting plastered instead of just making soap, but the guilt of not being productive for the ones that need me can be overwhelming at times. Not that it would matter. I honestly don't think I can get drunk anymore. I once forced myself to try, and I got ten mugs in and didn't feel a thing. Takes the fun out of it, really."

"Oh yes, because we need a mage who loses control of himself to alcohol. I suppose there is one benefit to the curse you willingly took upon yourself for power," he muttered.

"You're just not going to let go of that, are you?"

"Is there a reason I should?"

"You know what, why don't you shove it? I haven't done a damned thing to you and all you can do is harass me over my abilities, but I don't recall being the one who is able to put my whole fist through a man if they so much as irritate me," he shot at him.

"I do not kill someone for no reason. I have restraint," he pointed out.

"Ooooh, good for you. Because we all know there's not a single mage who can have restraint over themselves. Tell me, did you have to be locked up and tormented half your life to learn that control?"

"Yes," he snapped. "It was burned into me with lyrium!"

"And I'm sure that was an awful experience that no one should have gone through! Kind of like children being kidnapped from their families under the excuse they might turn into dangerous killers just because they breathe!"

The two glared at each other, and it seemed Fenris's attempts to avoid such an argument had proven to be pointless. Scoffing, he decided it was probably just best to leave. Dealing with rowdy drunks in a filthy bar would be better than this. Was the man really so tone-deaf to bring up the plight of mages when it was magic that had literally controlled and ruined his life? At the very least the blood mage had the courtesy to try and seem sensitive about the topic. Though she seemed very insistent that there was a difference between mages like her that used blood magic and the type of mages that hurt him. She was still using the same kind of magic of course, but at least she realized not to trivialize the pain he'd endured by comparing it to some imaginary plight mages had to endure. She was at least smart enough to know where to draw the line, even if she kept asking him to come down to the alienage for some reason.

"You cry so much about the pain that you endure but did it ever occur to you that if you'd never come for him that your former lover would still be alive? It wasn't the fact that he was a mage that killed him. It was your own arrogance and stupidity," he pointed out. "Did you really believe getting him out would so easy that you never even pondered there might have been consequences?"

He'd expected the mage to lash out at him, to fling a spell at him in anger or try to strike him with a fist. Instead, a look of anguish filled his expression that Fenris had not expected. Pure hurt colored his face before it morphed into anger.

"Get out," Anders snarled. "Now."

"You're only angry because I'm right."

"I said GET OUT!" he bellowed, fists clenched at his side as his body started to crackle with energy. Fenris didn't know if it was to try to intimidate him or if the mage was that little control over himself. Still, he didn't stick around to find out, taking the invitation to leave. Let the mage throw his tantrum if he wanted to.

He climbed his way back out of Darktown and wondered just where he should go. Hawke and the others would be wondering where the fool mage was, and if he didn't return they might come looking for Fenris as well. He could just go back to his mansion but they'd probably start their search there. If he was going to have any kind of peace and quiet tonight then he would have to go at least explain the absence of Anders from their celebration.

It didn't take long to reach the bar, and sure enough there was a ruckus coming from the corner, where Hawke, Isabela, Merrill and Varric were sitting around a table and seeming to be playing cards or at least trying to. The former captain had found a spot in Hawke's lap and kept pointing to different cards and whispering dramatically to the other woman while the warrior's face seemed to be a mix of red from the tattoo on her face and a flush from how much alcohol she must have consumed at this point. Varric meanwhile was explaining the different symbols and meaning to several cards in Merrill's hand as the elf stared at them like a confused child.

"Where is the guard?" Fenris asked as he approached the table. He was sure Aveline would have kept an eye on the group but she was nowhere in sight.

"Left when Rivani flashed her," Varric chuckled. "She said if we broke any laws then we were on our own. Hey, where's Blondie? Didn't he want to come?"

"He felt it was more important to try to start an argument with me," he said shortly. "It was not worth trying to drag him here."

"Oh no. What did you say to him?" the dwarf asked.

"You assume I was the one who started it?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Well if I had to pick between the two of you I'd say that you seem more like that type to try to needle someone," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. "Am I wrong?"

"I simply told him that if he hadn't partaken in that foolish mission to steal that mage away then he never would have been made Tranquil in the first place," he replied. "It was foolish to try to get a mage away from the Circle he belongs in. He shouldn't have been so irresponsible."

The laughter coming from Hawke stopped suddenly and he felt hard eyes fall on him. It wasn't like Ander's anger that had been hot and boiling over, instead of a cold and seething look on her face.

"You blamed Karl for what happened to him, because he wanted to with people he cared about?" she asked, her voice low.

"I only informed the mage that he couldn't blame the Templars for Karl's fate when it was his doing that caused the trouble in the first place," he explained, not one to be intimidated by anyone's anger anymore. "Anyone who would do something like that would be foolish not to consider the danger they might have posed to other people, and both he and Anders are at fault for it going wrong."

Her chair scrapped as she stood up suddenly, Isabela having to scramble so she didn't get dumped on the floor by the sudden action.

"I'm going home," she said shortly.

"Hawke, you don't have to-" Varric started but the woman only tossed a small bag of coins on the table and just walked away. "Nice going, Broody."

The elf only felt confused.

"Have I said something offensive she had a problem with?" he asked. "I was only speaking on mages."

"Her sister was one," the dwarf explained. "She and her brother spent their whole lives trying to protect her and keep her hidden so they could stay a family, only for her to get killed when fleeing the darkspawn. Hawke didn't even have time to burn the body for a funeral. Maybe next time you want to talk about how stupid it is for loved ones to want to stay together you should consider who you're talking to. Ah, but I bet you think she's lucky now, not having an apostate to worry about anymore."

Fenris felt he wasn't going to win himself any favors by arguing and so just left without a word as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that chapter was a little heavier than the last. It's what happens when you have characters with very traumatic pasts discuss things though, and there's no getting past that. I adore Fenris and his character, but if there is one major flaw he has it's that he just has no empathy for anyone and is constantly in a contest to see who has suffered the most. If he feels he has had it worse than someone then their pain doesn't count for anything and his suffering is worse than anyone else's.
> 
> This is especially telling for characters like Merrill who, yeah does practice a very dangerous type of magic, but is a kind and giving girl who cares a lot for other people around her. Yet he shoots down any attempt of hers to make a connection with him, even when she brings up possible ways for elven slaves to escape so the Dalish can help them, as well as specifically ask her if the Keeper was a friend of hers just so he could hurt her more emotionally when he tells her Merrill wasn't worth dying for, not to mention his complete refusal to help other elves by teaching them how to fight so they can better their lives like he did despite condemning for not fighting for more like he did. All in all it can make him come across as an insensitive dick at times who's too wrapped up in his own issues to even care about anyone else.
> 
> Which to be fair, is what they were no doubt going for. After all, this is a guy who walked away from someone who cared about him very deeply and refused to even talk to Hawke about it for three years, and then only came back when he had nothing else going for him. Fenris was never allowed to think about his own wants or concerns before so he's very aggressively selfish now in reply to that trauma. It's understandable but it can also be hard to deal with by people who've gone out of their way to help him only to get slapped down by accusations and intentionally hurtful words because they might turn on him, kind of like how he turned to the people who tried to help him escape slavery. It'd would have been interesting to see him admit his hypocrisy and say he's aware there's no difference between his treatment and how others were treated yet he is still distrustful, but he honestly doesn't seem to see the correlational no matter who points it out to him.
> 
> Also, on the matter of Hawke, admittedly in my mind she's always a warrior and for the character arc I have planned for her in this story a mage doesn't work too well. It's also just how I got used to playing her and it's hard to imagine the character as anything else, but admittedly I find Carver more engaging of a character than Bethany in his story and development even though I know playing anything but a mage makes you lose him. While Bethany is a more passive character who pretty much goes with the flow of her life and ends up wherever she ends up, Carver is a character who strives for more and wishes for a place in the world, very mature and happy with the Wardens if that's where he's allowed to go. When shown some appreciation, he can be very loyal and even selfless. The idea of the two of them surviving running from Ferelden and no longer burdened with the idea of a mage in the family was an interesting one I wanted to explore, especially since I think they'd both would have willingly gone back to Lothering and hiding from Templars if it meant having their little sister back. It was just something I felt I should explain before anyone got confused why Hawke wasn't a magic user.


	3. Smooth it Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm kind of on a roll with this and I figured I should keep the pace going while I can. Honestly I've been having a terrible case of writers block lately with my other works (mostly on the Supernatural television show) but this has been really helping me getting back into a healthy flow. I don't know how long that will last since these things usually come in waves, but I'm more than happy to enjoy it while I can that's for sure.
> 
> In any case, I hope that you enjoy the chapter.

_'Lyrium is the king of metals. Beneath our feet, it sings.' Lord Cerastes of Marnas Pell, Year Unknown, Dragon Age 2_

"I really don't see why I'm doing this again," Anders sighed out as he rubbed at his forehead, feeling a bit of any oncoming headache beginning to throb just underneath of his skull. "Seriously, this is like the third time you've come down here."

"Oh hush. I'm paying you, aren't I?" Isabela asked as she stretched out for him, her back to him as he ran his fingers over the thin cotton of her outfit. "Ugh, okay right there. It's been hurting like mad."

"I can feel the knot. You don't seem the kind of lady to get tense," the man replied as he started to massage it away, watching for her reactions as she winced. "Too hard?"

"Usually when men are touching me it's a lot more fun that this," she grumbled. "It's fine though, keep going. Sure you can't just wiggle your fingers and make it go away with magic?"

"Healing is just fine for cuts and diseases. Pulled muscles and the like? Not so much. Cutting flesh isn't exactly the same as overtaxing yourself," he explained. Actually, he could just wiggle his fingers, but it had been a long day already and he was kind of tired. He didn't fancy the idea of trying to use magic right now over something so small, especially if it concerned Isabela. He didn't charge most of his patients but she had made it clear she didn't like to owe people favors and would rather just give him coin to make sure he couldn't bother her later with something he might need in return for free treatments.

He supposed there was a fair honesty in that, and he couldn't say he was entirely without need for money. The people he helped did their best to take care of him and get him what he needed, but a few silver in the pocket never hurt anyone. Still, the idea of the pirate relying him to fix any possible health problem she might have come up did concern him. He wasn't sure he wanted to be at her beck and call concerning her habits of getting in trouble.

"So exactly what did you do anyway?" he asked as he worked her back over. "Sleep wrong? Exercise without stretching?"

She looked over her shoulder at him and smirked, which he couldn't help but return. He knew from first hand experience just what kind of things she could do in bed, just how flexible she was. It had been an interesting night when he'd met her in the Pearl, that was for sure.

"As much as I'd like to say that I was having some kind of fun, it wasn't anything like that," she sighed out. "Actually, it was a job. I'm still trying to track down that stupid relic. I haven't heard anything in the black market, so I thought I'd try something a little more official. Maybe one of the nobles might have been willing to purchase it if anyone had found it. So I went to one of the dwarves… Oh, I can't remember his name off the top of my head. He's some record keeper or banker or something for the merchant's guild-"

"The merchants guild?!" he asked, horrified. He didn't even deal with dwarves that much anymore, not since he'd left the Deep Roads behind, but even he knew how dangerous that was.

"Oh, will you relax? I didn't get caught. Actually, it was how this happened. I was looking over some ledgers and I had to hide… and apparently wardrobes for dwarves are much smaller, go figure," she informed him. "I was bent over in half for nearly two hours before the bastard went to bed. Even for me, that's too long."

"You're lucky a bad cramp is the worst you got," he informed her, even though he was sure she already knew that. "Sliced off fingers probably just would have been the warm up if you'd been caught."

"I know, I know. Alright, that's enough," she said as she batted his hands away and swerved around on the crate she was sitting on to face him. "At least it doesn't feel like I got stabbed in my spine now."

"You know what that feels like then?"

"If we're going to talk about things stabbing me, let's keep it fun," she cooed before laughing. "I know I promised you coin, but I wouldn't mind giving you a bonus."

Anders swallowed and rubbing his hands against his legs, trying not to think on how soft she was, even through her clothes, or the smell of perfume that clung to her. It was a tempting offer, and he was a bad man for considering, but he wasn't allowed to be as bad as he once had been. It was just too complicated now, though he wasn't sure if the pirate would find the spirit inside of him a turn off or something worth experimenting with.

"Much as I appreciate the offer, I think I'm fine," he admitted.

"No fair. You weren't a Warden last time," she said with a pout. "Oh well, maybe Hawke will entertain me later."

"Oh? Are you two getting along then?" he asked, curious despite himself. Hawke was an amazing woman, thoughtful and easy on the eye, though had a passing resemblance to his former Warden-Commander which had put a bit of a damper on the attraction. Not that he hadn't found Amell attractive, but they had grown up in the Circle together, and her being younger than him had made it a bit like looking at a little sister. Heck, when he'd first been brought to the tower at twelve-years-old she was still hugging a stuffed bunny everywhere she went despite only being a couple years younger than him, just that attached to the toy. It didn't exactly help along any fantasies and had made lusting after the woman who turned out to be her second cousin a little difficult too.

"Well, she's open to the flirting. That's nice… but honestly the moment I'd had planned to help her break in her new bed at that estate of hers got completely ruined," she grumbled. "Ugh, she was all nice and drunk too."

"Isabela, you don't need drinks to get someone to say yes to you," he pointed out with a grin.

"No, but drunken kissing is the best kind," she groaned out happily before her mood switched and she ended up frowning. "Sadly then Fenris had to come along and ruin the whole mood. She stormed off after that. It's been a month now but I haven't brought it up again. Seems a bit tacky, even for me."

"Wait, Fenris? What did he do?"

"Went and pissed her off, that's what. I didn't even know she could get mad either. She seems so put together and gentle most of the time, which is weird for a former soldier, you know? It was that night we were all going to celebrate the news about Carver. Well, she was celebrating and the rest were there for the booze. Though, I suppose it's fair to say Varric was happy his expedition didn't end up getting Hawke's little brother killed, but that's neither here nor there. The point is the elf came in talking about some argument he had with you and then she left the second he started talking about mages."

He couldn't help but feel irritated at that piece of news. Fenris was that bound and determined to stir up trouble, was he? Anders was used to hearing all sorts of vile things about mages and how he should be thankful just to be allowed to keep breathing, but it was all together another thing to hassle a fellow friend about it.

"So, she had a sister apparently," Isabela mentioned conversationally. "Carver's twin or something?"

"You're not planning on using this information to shimmy up to her, are you?" he asked. He'd like to think fake sympathy was bellow even her.

"Only to avoid any traps tripped over on accident," she assured him. "Like I said, even I'm not tactless. It's just, well she seems a family first sort of person. Don't want to put my foot in my mouth about it. Actually, I'd avoid her for that reason alone normally. She seems the type to want to build a family someday and she is on the fast track to nobility now. That comes with suitors and marriage and all sorts of things, stuff I like to avoid getting involved in but she's… she's so fun at the right times. I'd like to see if there's anything past that gentle, polite exterior with something more dirty beneath, see if there's anything repressed under all that armor with a soft core center."

"Well, good luck with that," the healer replied as he found himself thinking of the two, rolling around in fancy Orlesian sheets. He'd never seen Hawke without armor either, but he had a very good imagination.

What could he say? He didn't touch anymore, but his mind was still his own… In a manner of speaking, anyway.

"So, she ever mention anything to you? Varric seemed to be in on the story but those two are as thick as thieves. If I ask him then I know the first thing he'd do is go and tell her that I'm putting my nose into things that might not be my business," she stated.

"Aren't you just doing that with me though?"

"Yes, but you're a healer. You're expected to be discrete."

Not over getting combed over for gossip, but he supposed it couldn't hurt anything to share a little.

"Hawke didn't tell me much, only that her sister was an apostate. Apparently their father was a mage too and he trained her so she didn't lose control of her powers. They spent a lot of time moving around before he passed on, and then the Blight came. She… she didn't make it," he sighed out. "Hawke said she understood what I was going through, being on the run, and that if there was ever anything I needed then I could talk to her. Aside from that, I don't really know much."

"Mmm, that does sound rough. Funny to think I was there in Denerim at the time. Could have run into her last year if things had played out differently. Oh well," she said before stretching again.

"So then I take it we won't have to deal with the elf again?" he asked curiously. Honestly he hadn't seen him since their last… talk, but with the kind of attitude he had Anders couldn't pretend he'd cry over never seeing him again, good looks or not.

"As far as I hear, they made up. Bad luck on your part," she teased.

"Ugh, am I that obvious?"

"You don't really try to hide your feelings when someone isn't tolerant of magic," the pirate stated with a shrug. "He isn't that bad though, on the eyes anyway. He's got such an intense look, and those abilities of his could probably make time in the bedroom fun. Might even pursue that."

"He responds to flattery rather shyly," he muttered.

"What?" Isabela asked.

"What?"

"You've flirted with him?" she asked, seeming eager all of a sudden as she pushed in so close Anders actually had to lean away from her, gripping his seat for balance.

"Who said that? I didn't say that. I'm fairly certain those words never left my lips."

"But you just happen to know how he reacts to it?" she pushed with a smirk.

"Maybe I just saw someone flirting with him. Merrill might have looked at him once or twice, you never know."

"Oh please. Merrill is a total sweetheart but I think what she knows about sex would be completely clinical, if she knew anything at all," the pirate laughed. "Besides, Fenris doesn't seem the type to get shy around a blood mage. If nothing else he'd probably threaten her for even hinting she had an interest in him."

"I admit there were words between us," he confessed. "A conversation about certain interests but it didn't really go anywhere. I also might have once thrown him a line without thinking about it and he ran off. It's hardly an exciting courtship or vivid affair. Honestly, after our last discussion I'd have preferred just to keep my mouth shut on the matter."

"He did inform everyone that he told you it was your fault," she said, her tone of voice actually sympathetic. That was honestly a surprise for him, but a pleasant one. It was nice to have someone on his side, even if only a little. Sure, she wasn't the kind of person that was ever going to wave a flag on the battlefield for the cause of the mages but a friendly ear was nice too. "That kind of thing is never easy to deal with. It can leave a lot of regret, but sometimes that kind of stuff is best left in the past."

"Karl was too big of a part of my life to just forget him."

"Forget him, no, but too much weight on a ship and it will sink. Don't hold on too tightly to the anger. It will drag you down."

"Well-meaning advice, but I'm not exactly sure how to implement that into my life," he admitted.

"Well, I'm fairly sure Aveline would have a fit if you went around killing Templars until you felt better," she mused.

"I would think so, yes."

"Perhaps hashing things out with the elf would work instead," she suggested. "He's not completely unreasonable to you, is he?"

"Ah… no, I guess not," he conceded. He had been grateful about the help in the mansion, and Anders could not blame him for being wary about a possessed mage. If the questions had been more honest curiosity and less veiled accusations that Anders was dangerous he might not have taken it so badly. Then again, he was dangerous. Justice had wanted to help him and they'd both turned into something completely different and maybe even a little unholy. Anyone would be smart to cautious around that.

No, the real trouble had been talking about Karl. That wound was too fresh, cut too deep and to have it thrown in his face so callously that it had been his fault had only opened the wound all over again before it had even had time to heal properly.

"So, he and Hawke made up?" he asked. "How did that happen?"

"Not sure. I wasn't there when they were talking it over. All I know she went to his mansion and when she left she was feeling better," she said.

"You went there with her?"

"Well, I had thought I'd entertain myself at the Blooming Rose while she got things situated."

"Of course you did," he chuckled before allowing himself to think over it. Honestly speaking, he didn't enjoy the idea of being at Fenris's throat. He'd been in a strange collection of company before and they'd all been able to find balance together, even had a bit of fun with the whole hunting intelligent darkspawn thing. He could only imagine Fenris and Velanna talking. They'd probably have torn each other apart by now, or just endless squabbled over their respective lives.

Still, the Grey Wardens had all been people from hard pasts and difficult experiences, leaving more than a few of them prickly social outcasts. The order didn't care though, only that they could help each other in the threat against Thedas. It led to having to put aside differences in the idea of cooperation. Maybe it hadn't always been perfect or pleasant, but back then he had known how it had felt to have someone he could trust at his back.

Fenris didn't appear to be someone who wanted to make friends, but maybe an ally could be arranged.

"I guess it couldn't go worse than it did last time," he admitted. "I don't expect him to throw himself on the ground and beg my forgiveness, but I guess even he can regret his words."

"And if he doesn't?"

"I won't go in demanding an apology. That's the best way to ensure I'll never get one," he said. "I made it pretty obvious it hurt me though, and it has been a month. At the very least I think we can try to get past it."

"Go get him," she laughed as she lightly smacked his arm. "Maybe you can regale him of tales of your cute little kitten."

He was starting to suspect that she was just encouraging it so she could laugh later when it all blew up in his face. Oh well, he supposed it still wasn't a terrible idea. Fenris had to be at least a little reasonable, right?

Okay, not a lot of hope but he had long since proven he had determination on his side, if nothing else. One didn't escape captivity seven whole times by laying down and giving up. He could certainly try to clear the air at the very least. Besides, the captain turned relic-hunter looked like she was going to push him out of his clinic to make him do it if she had to.

"I'm lucky you were the last patient," he sighed as he secured the doors in preparation to leave. "Don't you follow me."

"What? No, I would never. Though I do have an idea," she said before she grabbed his arm and drug him off to Hightown, completely ignoring his protests.

"Isabela, leading me around to the mansion is kind of the same as following me," he informed her harshly, but she only ignored him to go up to a stand. Letting go of him, she went over to the vendor and began to haggle. Confused, Anders looked over at the wares, seeing various wrapped cheeses, meats and other things, and wondered just what she was planning. Glancing back over, he watched her drop several gold sovereigns in the merchant's hands and grab a large and dark bottle before thrusting it into the mage's grip.

"Here, a peace offering to give him. He's a fan of the wine in his mansion. It might help. Couldn't hurt, anyway," she said.

"This isn't a continuation of the drunk kisses are the best kisses line of thought, is it?" he asked warily. Sure the elf had very nice looking lips, surprisingly full and no doubt very good for kissing, but he was also very sure it would not come to something like that. He wasn't even sure he himself would want it to come to that. This was the kind of thing he was trying to avoid, after all.

Not to mention it would send a horrible message. 'Oh yes, you blamed the man that I cared for more than anything while I was a teenager for his fate, but if you say you're sorry I'm willing to make out with you.' Just the idea of that kind of implication coming across made him feel sick to his stomach to be perfectly honest.

"Think of it as a key. It'll get you inside without him immediately throwing you out," she stated. "Anyway, go on. Just consider it the bonus for my back."

"Right. Well, I guess it couldn't hurt," he sighed out.

"Unless he throws it at you."

"Oh Maker, I didn't even consider that," he said as his eye began to twitch in fear. He could very well die to this man. Before he could reconsider though, he found himself in front of the stolen mansion, the door opened for him and shoved inside.

He thought he would have actually preferred to trip and fall on his face with the bottle smashing underneath of him than actually walking further in. Still, he had a feeling that dratted woman would be waiting for him outside if he attempted to escape now. He was so good at running away that sometimes confrontation was something he didn't always know how to handle. Still, he was here already. Nothing to do but go forward.

"You're going to end up having horrible nightmares, hear insane sounds in your head and march down to the Deep Roads to die in a painfully symbolic way while taking out maybe a hundred monsters tops," he grumbled to himself. "You can handle an angry elf."

Looking around the entrance, he immediately grimaced to himself. This place was filthy and… were there still bodies on the floor? Good things the windows were open, but seriously? Even in Darktown people had the common courtesy to take the bodies and move them off to the side or get rid of them entirely. Ugh, reminded him of Kristoff's corpse that poor Justice had been walking around in.

"No wonder he likes the wine so much. You'd have to be drunk to willingly live like this," he grumbled before he figured he should just get it over with and made his way further in. "Hello? Fenris? You in here? Hello?"

Oh well, he'd tried. Turning around to leave, he found himself face to face with the elf and jumped in his shock, thankfully able to avoid screaming or anything else undignified.

"Andraste's knickers! Don't do that!" he cried out, patting at his chest. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"What are you doing here, mage?" the elf asked shortly.

Being called that all the time was really making him wish he hadn't bothered with learning his name.

"I come baring gifts," he said, figuring it was best to forge ahead anyway. He held up the bottle with his best smile. "Ta-daaaah."

Fenris looked down at the wine with all the passion of a sea slug.

"I have wine already," he said evenly.

"Oh shoot. Here I thought I was being so clever with the house warming gifts. Should have gone with cheese. Everyone does so love cheese with their wine," he sighed out dramatically. "Whatever shall I do? I'm a terrible guest. Shall I throw myself off the docks in penance then?"

Fenris covered his mouth to cough, but the magic user was surprised for a second to see an upward tug of his lips. Was… was he trying to hide the fact he was laughing? Most people found his humor tolerable at best, rage-inducing at worst. Laughs weren't a common reaction, even hidden.

He could work with that.

"All joking aside, I thought we should talk, clear the air a little bit," he confessed. "I thought bringing this might help."

Actually, Isabela had thought it would, but he didn't want to risk bringing her up. It was best to make it sound like this was all his idea. It might ease them both into a pleasant conversation.

"You seemed to make it pretty clear you didn't want to talk anymore when we last saw each other," Fenris said, though he did take the bottle. "No doubt because I said some rude things to you though."

"Oh, you thought you were rude?" he asked, intrigued. Maybe Fenris was a man who could feel regret after all.

"The way I phrased myself could have been better. Hawke spoke with me about the incident… along with a few things from her own past. Someone recently dealing with grief isn't usually open to hearing what they could have done better, and I was tactless to bring it up in such a fashion," he admitted.

"Wait, you're sorry for how you said it, not what you said?" Anders asked in shock. "Are you joking?"

"I didn't say I was sorry for either," he pointed out. "Only that I could have phrased it better."

"So you think I should have just left him in the Circle?" he asked frowning.

"Yes. He would have been safer there," Fenris stated. "However… it must still have hurt you to have seen him end up as he did, no matter what actions led to it. I feel you were responsible while you think the Circle was, but a man you cared about ended up dead and that's not easy to handle. Your reaction in the clinic… It was more than understandable."

From anyone else, he might have been pissed off, but he supposed this was the best he was going to get. Expecting more would just be idiotic.

"Thank you for the sentiment, such as it is," he settled on saying. "We have a mutual friend in Hawke and it doesn't seem as if either of us are moving on any time soon from this place. We should probably try to learn to tolerate each other at the very least."

"That remains to be seen if we can pull it off, but for now we can settle on sharing a bottle of wine," Fenris replied. "I have a fire going. Why don't we enjoy it over there?"

Intrigued, he followed the elf into one of the rooms, seeing a mishmash of furniture, crates and benches strewn about. Anders couldn't help but make a face at seeing cobwebs everywhere. This place was a dump. It could be a nice home too, if he would just clean up a little. A hundred people could easily fit in this place to sleep and would happily take it over Darktown or even Lowtown, and Fenris wasn't even bothering to keep it sanitary.

"Can you get sick?" he asked as he glanced around.

"I… What?" the elf asked.

"You live in complete ruin. There's dirt everywhere. I doubt you have clean water, and I'm not even going to think of the food storage situation," he said as he shuddered and did his best not to think of vermin like bugs or rats. "A place like this is a perfect recipe for catching an illness. Do you not care, or are you actually incapable of getting ill now? I'd think you were just being reckless with your health, but I don't know anything about those markings except that can help you make men go, 'Blarg, dead,' before they fall over with holes in their chests."

The elf looked surprised, like he was actually considering it for the first time.

"I don't believe I've ever fallen ill since I took them, no. At least not that I can recall. After the ritual I had to spend about a month recovering physically. It was the only time I was allowed to actually be cared for in any capacity, given full meals and plenty of rest. It almost made the pain bearable," he mused softly. "It's been years since then though and I can't say I've ever fallen ill. It might be because of the markings. I wouldn't know. It's not as if Danarius explained much to me expect how he expected me to fight for him."

Anders couldn't help but be curious, watching him closely as the elf popped the cork and drank right from the bottle in large gulps. Without a word, he held the wine out to him in silent offer. Oh, so no glasses then. Fine. He took a small sip himself, forcing aside thoughts that he knew were coming from Justice that he shouldn't be drinking idly. He didn't want to seem rude.

"Fenris… I… would you mind if I look at them?" he asked gently.

"What? Why?" he asked, his tone sharp with suspicion.

"Well I've never even heard of lyrium being burned into a living being before," he confessed. "I'm curious about it."

"Want to see if you could recreate it?" he hissed out.

The mage wanted to scoff but this couldn't be easy for the elf. It was something very personal that had happened to him.

"I want to see if there's a way I could help you," he admitted. "Maybe figure out what it is. You said you thought Danarius tracks you through the lyrium, right? If I could figure out how it works then there could be a way to stop that, shield your presence somehow."

He saw Fenris looked hesitant but Anders only smiled gently at him. The elf wasn't the first nervous patient he'd had before.

"I won't push anything on you. It was just an offer. We can forget it if you like," he assured him. "If you are willing though, we can take it in small steps. Maybe just activate your abilities first. Can you do it on command, or is it more of a reflex thing?"

"I don't want to be poked or prodded by you, mage," he said, his voice dangerously low, and Anders knew he was walking on thin ice. It was best just to back off.

"Alright. Forget I said anything," he agreed. "I can be reasonable, you know."

"Hn," the elf grumbled before taking another big drink of wine. Still, he passed the bottle back to the mage. It was success enough for now.

It was funny though. When there was only silence between them, Anders was almost sure he could hear the slightest whisper of a song emanating from the elf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any amount of progress is progress, especially for these two. There is such a thing as baby steps and we're talking about two guys who needed three years to be willing to start anything with Hawke. Don't worry though, it's not going to take that long with them, for the most part. The physical stuff will probably start before the happy emotions do anyway.


End file.
